“Here’s what happens now,” I said, standing so I could look at both of them evenly. “The master bedroom is mine again. Your things are boxed and labeled in the guest room, undamaged, because I am not a cruel woman, only a tired one who finally woke up. You have thirty days to find a place of your own.”
Sabrina’s mouth fell open. “Thirty days? We can’t afford our own place in thirty days.”
“You both have full-time jobs,” I replied. “And for three years, you’ve paid no rent, utilities, groceries, or taxes. If you can’t afford a home after three years of living free, that isn’t a housing problem. That’s a choice.” Caleb stared at me, stunned. Then his face hardened. “You’re really throwing out your own son over hurt feelings?” I took a breath, because I knew what I was about to say would change everything.
